Humanity
by Forever the Optimist
Summary: The Doctor and Donna travel to WWII at Winston Churchill's call to investigate a brilliant young scientist's invention. But this breakthrough is too close to Cybermen for the Doctor and he determines to shut it down before it begins. Donna argues - the Doctor is too prejudiced to decide fairly. The decision will tip the balance of the war, with lives as the price of choosing wrong.
1. Called

"So, Charlie Chaplin, huh?" The Doctor propped his feet up on the TARDIS console, crossing his arms.

"He's brilliant," Donna said squarely. "Grandad and I watch his movies all the time."

"I never much cared for him," the Time Lord admitted.

"He revolutionized silent comedy!"

The Doctor shrugged. "I like my talking, me," he told her. "But if that's who you want to see…" He reached out with one converse-covered foot and flipped a lever, a grin spreading across his face. "...I'll try anything once."

"Oh, I knew you would." She answered his grin with one of her own as he jumped to his feet to set the TARDIS in motion.

"Right then. 1935, the height of his popularity. If I time it right, we can get advance tickets-"

The phone rang, cutting off his chatter. Donna stared at him.

"You've got a phone?"

"Course I've got a phone, what sort of phone box would this be without one?" He nodded to the receiver, nestled in its cradle on the console. "Go on, answer it."

" _Me?"_

"Why not?"

Straightening her shoulders and putting on her best temp voice, Donna picked up the phone. "Thank you for calling the TARDIS. This is Donna Noble, how can I help you?"

The Doctor smirked at her formality. Donna listened for a moment, then held the receiver to her chest, gaping at him. " _It's Winston Churchill!"_ she hissed.

"What does he want?"

"What does he- I can't just ask _Winston Churchill_ what he wants!" She looked completely scandalized at having to make such a brass request to such an important person. "Isn't he dead?"

"Oh, give it here," the Doctor said, grabbing the phone. "Hello?"

He listened for a while, nodding, then typed a set of coordinates into the TARDIS console. "We'll be there soon," he promised, before hanging up and turning to Donna. "I'm afraid we're going to have to cancel our plans," he told her, already recalibrating his time machine. "Some bionic weaponry he wants us to check out. Very ahead of its time. Duty to Queen and country, after all. Or King and country, I guess. How do you feel about 1945?"

"Weren't we at war?"

"Ah, bit of local color, that's all. It's almost done anyway. Come on," he wheedled, darting around the console and grabbing her shoulders. "History, happening right there in front of our eyes, and the Prime Minister of Great Britain wants us to come have a look at it. _How_ can you say no?"

Donna laughed. "Like I ever would. Space man." She shoved him affectionately. "Go on, then. Let's go."

"Ha, I knew you would!" The Doctor darted around, flipping levers and pressing buttons left and right. "Allons-y!" He laughed as the engines started to roar, knocking them around the room. Both held onto the console edge, familiar with the TARDIS's erratic flight patterns.

"Should be a short trip," shouted the Doctor over the noise. "Just a quick hop into the past, not even a century. Won't take but a minute."

"Do you know how bloody insane that sounds?" Donna yelled back, smiling in spite of himself.

"Wouldn't be me if it didn't. Woah!" The TARDIS landed with a lurch, throwing them both forward. The Doctor dusted off his long brown coat, then helped Donna up. "Here we are, then. Ready?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. Is anyone ever ready for something like this?" she asked. "I mean, we're going _back in time._ 1945, right out there!"

The Doctor held his serious face for a moment, then broke into a grin. "I know exactly how you feel." He took her arm and steered her towards the doors, placing one hand on one of the handles. "Together, then."

Smiling, Donna took the other. "Together." And, beautifully synchronized, they pulled open the wooden doors.

"That's what I get for being fancy," the Doctor muttered. They had landed, not in Churchill's office as planned, but in the middle of what looked to be an impromptu army base. Young men in uniforms were running errands, playing cards, or relaxing with their friends. And, as was somehow the usual case, not one had noticed the blue police box landing to the side of their camp. It was all astonishingly historical.

"Thought I could track it just by the call," the Doctor continued, stepping out and closing the door behind him, "but those old lines are so unpredictable. Should have asked for coordinates. Ah, well. Come on!"

He led the way through the camp, Donna following just behind. Without hesitation, the Time Lord strode up to one young man sitting by himself, intently reading a small book.

"Stars, eh? I understand the appeal," he said with a grin. "There's a lot more than just what's in that book, though."

The young soldier jumped, startled out of his reading. "Yes, sir. I don't doubt it, sir."

"Oh, enough with the 'sir'." The Doctor waved off the man's salute. Really, Donna thought, he didn't hardly seem old enough to be a man at all. He couldn't be more than eighteen.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, stowing his book in a pocket and getting to his feet. Donna grinned, seeing him visibly fight off another 'sir'.

"Well, you could start with your name." The Doctor's smile was easygoing, designed to put the young man at ease.

"I'm-" he began, then seemed to change his mind. "Freddie."

"Pleased to meet you, Freddie. I'm the Doctor, this is Donna." Donna nodded a hello. "Listen, we're supposed to meet Mr. Churchill, but we've taken a bit of a wrong turn. I don't suppose you'd know where he's at?"

The man - Freddie - shifted uncomfortably. "I'd need to see some identification, sir."

"Of course." The Doctor dug in his pocket, finally pulling out the small black case Donna knew contained psychic paper. "Here you are."

Freddie looked at it for a second, then handed it back. "Thank you. Just doing my job."

"Good for you," Donna said warmly. She liked him, and hadn't missed that he was sitting by himself.

"This way." He strode off through the base, the time-traveling pair behind him.

This did not escape the attention of the other soldiers. "Hey, Freddie!" one called. "Where you going?"

"To see Churchill," Freddie called back. Donna saw him stiffen.

"Why, you gonna get a medal?" the heckler jeered. "Oh wait, I forgot. You never actually shot anyone." His friends snickered.

"Never have, never will," muttered Freddie under his breath. "At least, not if I can help it."

The Doctor said nothing, but Donna could tell the young man had earned his respect.

The rest of their journey passed quickly. The Doctor and Freddie fell into conversation - as soon as the young man discovered that his newfound companion was a veritable expert on outer space, he was bursting with questions. Donna trailed a bit behind, taking in the scenery.

No matter how many times she traveled with the Doctor, she would never get used to stepping outside a door she'd gone into only minutes before and finding herself in an entirely different world. And war-torn England was a different world, make no mistake. She saw it in the beaten landscape, in the alertness, the tiredness, the hardness behind the eyes of the people they passed.

Suddenly they were there. Donna snapped back to paying attention as Freddie rapped smartly on the door. "Two to see the commander, sir," he called. Another officer came to the door, but the Doctor simply handed him the psychic paper and, with a wave goodbye to Freddie, they were in.

The officer led the pair through the base into a bustling command center crowded with uniformed people of all kinds dashing about. In the middle of the room, a young woman read off a stack of reports for a large, older gentlemen, who was bent over a table covered in military figurines. He was clearly in charge.

"...the platoon should be back within the hour, sir," she told him. "All preliminary reports point to a full success."

"Thank you, Lillian. What of the Messerschmidt's? Last we saw, the buggers were-"

"Ah, Doctor, welcome. Good to see you." Winston Churchill, commander in chief of His Majesty's Army, welcomed them congenially, patting the Doctor warmly on the back.

"And you, Prime Minister." The Doctor shook the esteemed man's hand with every ounce of enthusiasm he could muster. "Er… Have we met?"

"Not in this face, at least. Another new one?" The Doctor's surprise must have shown in his face, for Churchill chuckled. "Oh, come now, you must have known we'd look into you. You don't exactly fly under the radar, you know."

"One of these days I'll have to do something about that," the Time Lord replied cheerfully. "How goes it with you?"

"Not as well as could be hoped; but then, wars rarely do." He shrugged his massive shoulders. "We're taking everything one heartbeat at a time, and trying to keep as many heartbeats going as possible." Eyeing the Doctor, he added, "You'll be willing to do your bit, I'm sure?"

"Anything I can," the Doctor promised.

Churchill smiled, then turned to Donna. "I don't think I've made your acquaintance."

"Oh, Donna, Donna Noble." She smiled uneasily, not sure if she should shake his hand as well. Curtsy, maybe? But then the moment was gone.

"Pleased to meet you. This way, please." Dismissing the officer, Churchill led them down another hall, out of the war room.

Donna, walking just behind the Doctor, leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "You know him?"

"Not yet, but apparently I will," he answered in an undertone. "Earlier in his timeline, later in mine." He shrugged. "Always good to know I'll get a later."

"Through here," Churchill called, holding aside a metal curtain to let them through. "We do our best to keep it shielded. No one's quite sure what the side effects will be."

"What, are you doing something with radiation?" the Doctor asked, stepping through the doorway. They'd entered a well-stocked laboratory, full of old machines Donna didn't have a hope of recognizing, much less understanding. "Doesn't look like radiation. That'd make sense for this time period, though, although if you think a little curtain'll stop that from getting out-"

"I'll let the expert explain," Churchill said, cutting him off neatly. "John, our guests are here. Come say hello."

A young, somewhat scrawny man stepped out of the shadows, wearing comically large goggles and a heavy apron. "Pleased to finally meet you, Doctor," he said, almost breathless with excitement. "I've heard so much about you."

"Doctor, Donna," Churchill said, striding over and putting an arm around the man's shoulders, "allow me to introduce our resident genius, Mr. John Lumic."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hello, friends! I'm back. This will likely be a more single-episode story, so shorter and less complicated than some of my past works, but I'm pretty excited about it. I'm going to do my best to put in as much history as I can, but I am an American, and we learned very little about anything ever from a British perspective, so some things may be a bit skewed. If you see anything that needs correcting, do please let me know! Those of you who've been following my work know that I absolutely love to hear from my readers in any form!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	2. Lumic

"How do you do," Donna said politely. The Doctor, on the other hand, actually stepped back a pace.

"John Lumic," he repeated. Donna tried to find a word for his expression other than 'repulsed.' "He's your genius?"

"A brilliant young inventor," Churchill affirmed, much to Lumic's pleasure. "His creations will tip the course of the war more decisively than Hawker and Turing combined. Show him!" he barked. Young Lumic scuttled off, eager to please.

"Here's the prototype," the scientist said, holding up a metal contraption that was vaguely cylindrical, built of many flat strips melded together. A gun of some kind was mounted on the top. The Doctor's frown deepened. "Of course, it does nothing when not connected to the human component, so we're perfectly safe." He flashed them a reassuring smile.

"How does it work?" the Doctor asked, slipping on his glasses and leaning in to study it.

"It's a bionic attachment that produces light amplification by stimulated emission of radiation," Lumic explained, patting the device fondly. "In this case, the stimulation comes from the human neural systems. When these wires-" He pointed to a few hair-thin wires extending out of the top of the device. "-are connected to the nerves in a man's arm, the adrenaline released by being in a position of danger triggers this." He indicated the gun-like addition. "When stimulated, radiation is manipulated to create a highly-concentrated beam of light that is astonishingly destructive."

"What, like a laser?" Donna asked, glancing at the Doctor for confirmation. "Isn't that a bit sci-fi?"

"Laser," Lumic mused, setting aside his device. "Interesting name."

"But that's years ahead of its time!" exclaimed the Doctor. "Einstein's hasn't even laid the theoretical foundations yet; you shouldn't have lasers until the sixties, at least."

"Who's to say?" Lumic asked, curious yet challenging. "To an inquiring mind, all possibilities are open, regardless of when or where. For years," he said, eyes alight, smile wide, "I've fought against people who said it couldn't be so, that man and machine could never be mixed. And yet, here we are!"

"I don't doubt it," muttered the Doctor. "Mr. Churchill, sir, could I speak to you for a moment? Privately?" he added, glancing towards the suddenly anxious Lumic.

"If you wish," the Prime Minister said congenially. "Excuse us a moment, John." He led the Doctor over to a corner. Donna lingered behind, staring around the laboratory, but to her surprise, Churchill waved her over. "I've learned that the Doctor's companions are often every bit as formidable as the Doctor himself."

Donna nodded primly and stepped up to join them, vowing to bring this back to bite the Doctor at some later date. Churchill, perhaps sensing her intentions, winked.

However, the Doctor was in no mood for jokes. "Prime Minister, you cannot trust this man. You called me here to look at it, I've had a look, and I'm telling you right now, for the sake of your country, don't let him fit anyone with this."

"Why not?" Churchill demanded. "I'll admit, it's a bit unnatural, but these are far from natural times, Doctor! Above all else, I have a war to run, and to win, and I cannot afford to allow my own sense of decency to get in the way."

"Sir, believe me, I've met this man before, in a parallel universe. He created something awful, something a lot like this, to improve humanity, and he ended up nearly destroying it. His brilliant invention killed people I liked, tore worlds apart, trapped my- my friend in a parallel universe so I'll never see her again. " The Doctor was nearly begging now. "Don't let him start it here, too."

"A parallel universe?" Donna repeated. "How do you know he's anything like that? Was he helping the war then?"

"No," the Time Lord admitted, "he was much older. Almost dying. Although maybe he did help earlier, I don't know." He adamantly refused to back down. Donna glanced over at the young man, carefully storing his pride and joy, and sighed.

"Doctor, look at him." She nodded into the other room, and his eyes reluctantly followed. "All excited because he can help, because he's done something new and brilliant, something nobody's ever done. You know who else is like that? You."

"I don't make Cybermen," the Doctor spat. "I don't play God, I don't mess around with people's lives-"

"Don't you?" she asked softly. Churchill looked on, watching the Doctor's face intently.

The Time Lord was silent for a long moment. "He's not like the part of me that I like," he said at last. "I'm not proud of that bit of history."

"But that isn't the part I need," Churchill said. "I know you've seen war, Doctor. You know the toll it takes, especially on those who must make the big decisions. I gamble with lives no matter which way I turn, so I call the cards as I see them. Whatever prejudice you may have against this sort of technology, set it aside." He looked at the Doctor a moment more. "Compassion has no place in war, much as I hate to say it. You know that better than I do.

"Besides," the man continued, striding back into the laboratory, "you're too late. TARDIS malfunction again?"

"Er, maybe." The Doctor glanced at his earth, then winced. "She's a Type-"

"Type 40 TARDIS," Churchill finished, smiling fondly. "Yes, I remember. Beautiful machine. The things I could do…"

He drifted into thought for a moment. Donna and the Doctor shared a puzzled glance. Just how much did he know? And what did he mean by 'too late'?

Churchill cleared his throat, bringing them all back to the moment at hand. "When I first called you, this device was merely a set of blueprints, purely theoretical. I didn't want to allow him to proceed," he admitted, "but there comes a point where a decision must be made. I've made it."

"What d'you mean, what's been done?" the Doctor demanded, glancing wildly around the little lab.

"The conversion," Lumic said quietly, glancing at the Prime Minister to see if he'd overstepped his boundaries. "The upgrade, I suppose you could say. Attaching the machine to the man." The Doctor winced.

"Volunteers only," Churchill added, somewhat ironically. "I'm no monster, whatever you may think. An entire platoon of young, single men who are willing to put anything on the line for their country." He shook his head. "I wish I had an entire army just like them."

"Mr. Churchill, sir, we can start further production any time," Lumic assured him. "You only have to give the word. I have dozens made up, sir, we could-"

"Not until the others get back. It should be any minute now." Churchill rested a fatherly hand on the young scientist's shoulder. "You've done good work, John. Time to see if it pays off." He looked at Donna and the Doctor. "If you'll excuse me, I have a war to plan. You may wait with Mr. Lumic here until our volunteers get back." Without waiting for argument, Churchill strode from the room, back to his command center.

As soon as he was gone, the Doctor took Donna's hand, tugging her towards the door. "Come on," he said, his voice tight. "We're leaving."

"Leaving? Doctor-"

"There's nothing we can do here, and I don't want to be around to watch this all play out again. We're going to shut this down, and then we're leaving."

"You haven't even seen it yet!" she protested, yanking her hand out of his grasp. "This isn't you, running out, running off. Yes, it's… weird, and unnatural," she admitted, frustrated, "but they said that about surgery once, didn't they?"

The Doctor looked at her, eyes storming, then finally gave in. "Fine. We'll stay, then, and see what happens." He glanced over at Lumic, who had watched the exchange with wide, silent eyes, and lowered his voice. "One chance. But the instant something goes wrong…"

"Then you can say 'I told you so'," she said tartly. He grinned, raising an eyebrow.

"And I'm sure you won't waste a second in telling me the same."

"Of course not." Shaking his head good-naturedly, the Doctor put an arm around her shoulders. They waited in friendly, if somewhat apprehensive, silence.

At last, the young woman who was attending Churchill earlier stuck her head through the door. "The soldiers have returned," she told them with a polite smile. "The Prime Minister asks that you join him in welcoming them home." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "It's quite a sight to see."

"Then I suppose we'd better go see it," said the Doctor lightly, and, offering his arm to Donna, the pair followed the woman out of the laboratory, a nervous Lumic right behind.

* * *

 **A.N: Hi guys. Thanks for reading on! Hopefully if you've made it past the first chapter, it means you'll stick around for the end. The amount of interest I've gotten is gratifying, especially for only having one chapter up! I've been added to a C2, whatever that is. Someone explain?**

 **I probably should mention: I really know very little about Winston Churchill as a person, and I am basing his personality solely on the episodes he's been in. We'll see how that goes.**

 **Anyway, thank you all so much for reading! Reviews are loved and appreciated! (And highly motivational)**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	3. The Return

Donna and the Doctor stepped outside into the bright sunlight, peering around at the camp. If they'd thought the area was busy before, it was nothing compared to now. With the imminent arrival of the upgraded platoon, everyone was dashing around: trying to be presentable, trying to find a good place to watch. Donna looked around for the young man they'd met before, but in the press of soldiers all dressed alike, it was impossible to pick out anyone specific.

"Doctor, Donna, over here." Churchill waved them to his side on a makeshift platform. "They should be arriving any moment. That's why I'm here, you know," he added confidentially. "Made the trip over from London specially."

"I had wondered," Donna admitted with a smile. Despite whatever the Doctor seemed to think, she liked this man. The Doctor himself, however, was distracted by the sight of John Lumic dashing up the steps, face flushed with excitement.

"Ah, John, there you are," Churchill said warmly, pulling the young man to his side. "This is your moment, my boy. Let us see if it pays off."

The Doctor seemed about to say something, but his words were lost in the sudden rush of noise and movement as the assembled soldiers caught sight of something approaching in the distance. Though there was no doubt in anyone's mind what it was, a young man dashed to the bottom of the stairs and snapped off a salute.

"Platoon approaching, sir!" he barked, pitching his voice in that peculiar way soldiers so often did to be heard above the clamor of battle. "Should be in view in about two minutes, sir!"

"Thank you, Captain," Churchill answered, nothing but dignity. "And their status?"

"Still unknown, sir!"

"Dismissed." Without another glance, Churchill turned back to his guests. "The future approaches," he said grandly, his words intended for all assembled there. "Let us meet it with pride."

The next few minutes were tense ones. No one was sure quite what to expect, though it was clear from the Doctor's expression that he anticipated nothing but disaster. For a moment, Donna wavered - she'd been willing to put her neck on the line back in the laboratory, sticking up for Lumic. He'd seemed so innocent, so zealous, like he truly believed he could make a difference. And he could, too.

But the Doctor was so rarely wrong, and clearly whatever had happened with these Cyber-things in his past was bad… What if they came back in tatters? Or, worse, never came back at all? She glanced over at him, hoping for some small reassurance, but his face was stony, and his gaze was fixed on the distant hillside.

"Here they come!" someone shouted, and instantly the cry was taken up by the crowd. Heads turned, and then the crowd parted to reveal a group of around thirty soldiers, all marching smartly together. They appeared largely unharmed, though a few were limping or holding their arms. Probably more had bandages Donna couldn't see, but her attention was caught by the shining steel bound around each man's hand and arm.

She wasn't the only one staring. The entire camp had gone oddly silent, especially considering this was obviously a triumphant return. The Doctor glanced at her, and Donna could tell they were thinking the same thing: how many other soldiers knew what was happening?

A man in front called a halt, and the entire platoon stopped together

Churchill raised a hand, and what little noise remained disappeared in an instant. "Welcome back, gentlemen." His voice boomed across the grounds. "Lieutenant, report."

The lieutenant saluted with his non-upgraded hand, then called, "A definite success, sir. The skirmish took only moments."

"Excellent," Churchill said, rubbing his hands together and looking pleased. "A simple training exercise, of course," he added in an aside to the Doctor and Donna. "Nothing properly dangerous."

"New weaponry is extremely effective, sir," the lietenant added. "Utterly devastating when it should be, but much more accurate than current issue, and kinder, too.

"What do you mean, kinder?" the Doctor asked, unable to stop himself from jumping in.

Slightly embarrassed, the soldier shook his head, but at Churchill's nod, answered, "The wounds are cleaner, sir, and the accuracy means fewer slow deaths from belly wounds or the like. We hit where we mean to."

"That's good, then, isn't it?" Donna said, looking at the Doctor. "If we have to fight, might as well be clean."

"And short," Churchill added with a satisfied smile. He turned to Lumic, who was positively glowing with pride. "Bravo, John. You've done a wonderful thing for your country."

"Thank you, sir," he whispered, overcome with emotion.

Churchill nodded decisively, then turned to the assembled crowd. "Gentlemen, the future of military technology has walked in here today, proud and tall and English. We as a nation have been handed the key to a swift end to this war. The sooner we take it, the sooner we go home to our mothers and fathers, to our wives and sweethearts, to our children, our nieces and nephews."

He paused, surveying the crowd. They were hanging on his every word. "But my friends, we cannot do this without each of you. We have these astonishing devices, capable of more than any of us dreamed possible. All but one." He glanced at Lumic, who seemed about to faint. "But for all their power, they are useless without the single thing that makes this country and this army what it is today: our brave soldiers."

The Doctor, sensing where this was going, stepped forward to say something, but Donna yanked him back. "You can't interrupt Winston Churchill!" she hissed. "Shut it!"

"Gentlemen, what I'm asking you to do today is beyond the call of duty, beyond anything our fathers or grandfathers were ever asked to do. You've seen what these men have done, seen what has been added." The upgraded soldiers lifted their arms obligingly. "With these, we can do so much. With more of you, we can win this war."

From beside her, Donna could feel the Doctor shifting uncomfortably. Despite the apparent success of Lumic's machines, he clearly still didn't trust that they were all the scientist claimed they were. Perhaps he thought they were more. How much, she wondered, was legitimate doubt, and how much was simply old memories?

"I am asking, not commanding," Churchill continued, spreading his arms wide as if to include the entire crowd. "This conversion will be voluntary only. But know that I would consider it the very highest service, worthy of all recognition and honor."

He nodded, and the young woman from before hurried up the steps, holding a clipboard. "For any who are willing, please see Miss Anderson here with your name and rank. I hope you will consider this opportunity carefully. The future of our country rests in your hands."

* * *

 **A.N: Oh, I so rarely get to do speeches. I love speeches. Glorious. Hello, friends. Hope you're still enjoying things! I admit, I'm struggling to get into this a bit. Hopefully as I dive into the proper action, things will pick up, for me and for you.**

 **If you're new to me, welcome! I would like to point out: A while ago, I posted a writing guide to my profile, Fanfiction for Dummies. If you're ever struggling with how to start a story, how to take an idea and make it into something worth reading, I highly recommend you check it out. I know I've heard from several people who've found it useful, so hopefully it can do the same for you!**

 **Thanks again, my dears, and have a lovely day! Do tell me what you thought!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	4. Decisions

"I think that went well," Churchill said, ushering the Doctor, Donna, and Lumic into the command room once more and lighting up a thick cigar. "They'll do their duty."

The Doctor was fuming. "Their duty is to die?"

"If necessary, yes." The great man was unfazed, moving over to his command table. "The goal of this machinery is to reduce that necessity."

"Yes, and that's where it started last time," the Doctor insisted. He pointed at young Lumic, who was watching him with eyes both confused and frightened. "He was dying, and he thought it'd be clever and brilliant and helpful if he could put a stop to that. No more pain, no more aging, no more death."

"Is that so bad?" the scientist asked quietly. "I wouldn't mind."

Donna had to admit, on the surface, the idea had appeal.

"But it also meant no imagination, no invention, no choice," added the Doctor, shaking his head.

"And that is nothing like what is happening here today," Churchill said firmly, slamming a hand on the table. "The upgrades will continue. This discussion is closed."

"Oi! Still in the room, thanks," Donna said irritably, tossing her hair. "Don't I get a say?"

"A civilian. Why should she?" Lumic said. Churchill seemed to agree.

" _She_ is on your side, so zip it," she told him fiercely. "Mr. Churchill sir, you said these troops of yours got back from training?"

"Correct," Churchill told her, puffing on his cigar. "Strictly non-combat, in case something went wrong."

"And nothing did," Lumic put in eagerly, desperate to make sure they thought only the best of his creation.

"Right," said Donna dismissively, "but how do you know they'll work exactly the same when they're properly fighting?"

"Donna, they're machines," the Doctor said wearily, running a hand through his hair. "They'll work the same no matter where they are."

"What, you never had a lamp or something that only works when it rains?"

"A lamp?" Churchill asked skeptically. "This is no lamp, Miss Noble."

"Or those automated teller machines, those are always twitchy…" She glanced at the Doctor. "Too early?"

"A bit, yeah."

"Whatever. My point is," she continued impatiently, "you can't ever count on technology to work the same all the time. And these laser gun things are triggered by adrenaline, right?"

"The release of adrenaline neurotransmitters into the synaptic gap, yes." Lumic nodded. "That stimulates the radiation."

"You shouldn't know about that either," the Doctor muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Not for a decade, at least." Donna ignored him.

"And when you're actually in battle, you don't think that's going to be a bit different than some training exercise? That they're going to feel different?"

Churchill, about to object, paused. "She could have a point."

"Of course she's got a point, she's brilliant!" the Doctor exclaimed, beaming. "If there's one thing you gorgeous, messy humans know how to do, it's be unpredictable. You lot have been studying yourselves for centuries, and you still can't explain everything, can you? Oh, well done, Donna!"

"We don't need to," Churchill told him, voice heating up. "The device simply has to do it's job."

"With human lives in the balance?" the Doctor asked impatiently. "Nothing simple about that, not in my books!"

"I thought you said you were on my side," Lumic muttered, glancing at Donna.

"If you'd let me finish," she said pointedly, staring at each man in turn until they fell silent. "Thank you. What I'm suggesting is you send the ones you've already got, the upgraded ones, out to do a bit of fighting. Something they'd do anyway. The Doctor and I, and him if he wants-" She nodded to Lumic. "-can go with in the TARDIS, just to watch and make sure nothing happens. Then if it's all good…" She trailed off, knowing they'd got the point.

"We start full-scale, mass conversion," Churchill finished. "It's a good plan."

Lumic was looking at the Doctor, rightly knowing that his acceptance, if not approval, would be the driving force.

Finally, the Doctor sighed. "It is a good plan," he admitted, giving in to the temporary defeat. "Dunno why I expected anything else from you."

"Settled, then." With a final puff, Churchill tossed his cigar aside, and bent over the command table. "Now we need-"

"Mr. Churchill, sir!" A young man in uniform ran up to the Prime Minister, breathless. After a sharp salute, he barked, "Enemy snipers sighted, sir! Approaching this base, sir! Probable assassination attempt."

"Another one?" Churchill sighed. Then he glanced up at Donna. "Very well. Send in our newest platoon. You know the one." The soldier ran off, and Churchill turned to the Doctor. "Go with them. Take your TARDIS, observe for yourself. Lumic, with them." He scribbled down a set of coordinates from a report an orderly held up for him and handed them to the Doctor.

"What? Take him in my TARDIS?" the Doctor objected. "With all due respect, Prime Minister, a man like John Lumic-"

"Doctor, either you're on board with this or you aren't," Churchill told him in a tone that brooked no discussion. "I know you are no citizen of our fair nation, nor soldier of mine, and I cannot command you. Instead I'll ask you as a friend: take this opportunity to observe this invention in action, and take the inventor along. If you truly believe he is in the wrong, take it as an opportunity to teach him. Or take your leave." He held out the slip of paper again. "Decide now, Doctor."

"Be reasonable," Donna hissed, elbowing him. "Give the man a chance. It's one trip in the TARDIS. Not even traveling in time. What's the harm?"

"Well, it could introduce bigger-on-the-inside technology several centuries too early, not to mention the dozens of other things she does," he muttered. "And who knows what he'll do with the ideas? But beside that…"

"I won't poke about, sir, I promise," Lumic said earnestly. "I don't much like having strangers in my laboratory myself. I won't intrude."

Donna gave the Doctor a look that clearly said, _See?_ He sighed and took the paper, tucking it in his pocket.

"Alright, then. Come on." Under Churchill's approving stare, the Time Lord led Donna and the delighted Lumic out of the room.

* * *

 **A.N: Hello, dears. I'm back! Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter, but I didn't want to get into anything else here. So here it is. I'm beginning to suspect this is going to be a rather short story. I suppose we'll see.**

 **I've recently (and by that I mean about twenty minutes) applied for an AO3 invite. I'm thinking of posting some of my works there as well as here. Anyone know anything about that? I've never been on the site, but it keeps cropping up on tumblr and things. If you do, please clue me in! Thanks, everybody!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	5. TARDIS Trip

" _This_ is your ship?" Lumic asked incredulously, staring at the squat little police box before him.

"Oi, don't judge! You haven't even seen the inside yet. That's the best part. Blimey," the Doctor muttered, inserting his key and turning it. "Everyone's a critic."

"He's sensitive," Donna whispered conspiratorially. "Men and their vehicles, you know."

"Shut it, you two," the Doctor told them, though somewhat more good-naturedly. "Come on, then. The first impression is always the best."

"And modest, too," added Donna musingly, a glint in her eye. The Doctor swatted her, then pushed open the doors and stepped inside. Donna followed, with Lumic at her heels.

"Oh, my…" The inventor's mouth dropped open, and he stopped dead. "It's… It's…"

"Bigger on the inside, yes, did you notice?" Darting forward to the console, the Doctor began prepping for flight. "Bit of a talking point." He was clearly in no mood for the usual rigamarole.

Lumic, however, would not be stopped. "It's incredible! It shouldn't exist, not according to Euclid, physical space shouldn't be able to… Oh, utterly brilliant!" He ran up to the main platform, spinning around to take it all in. "Dimensions, maybe? The universal constants of physics are wrong, aren't they? Every one!" Finally, positively glowing, he turned to the Doctor. "I call myself a scientist, an inventor, even a genius, but I am nothing, _nothing,_ compared to the brilliance of engineering that is this machine."

The Doctor shifted, flattered and a little uncomfortable. Lumic's obvious sincerity and admiration was so unexpected, it was disconcerting. Donna had to fight down a snort. "Well, I can't claim much credit-"

"To own and operate such a machine is a credit itself," Lumic assured him, running a gentle hand along a railing. "And it travels in both time and space, you said?"

"Yep." Returning to the console, the Doctor went back to readying the TARDIS for flight. "A short hop of both today. I hate waiting." He glanced over at Donna. "What?"

"Nothing," she said, hastily wiping away her smile. "Good to see you two getting on, is all."

"Hmmph." He puttered at the controls a bit longer, Lumic watching eagerly.

Finally, the young inventor could contain himself no more. "Where did you get it?" he asked. "Is it from the future?"

Glancing at him, the Doctor said, with all the drama he could muster, "From another world."

"From another…" Lumic mouthed the words, though no sounds came out. "So it's alien, then. You're an alien."

"Oh, don't shout it about," the Doctor scolded him. Donna could tell he wasn't in the least annoyed.

"But aliens don't exist!"

"Well, that's a bit rude," the Time Lord remarked, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I might have an identity crisis."

Lumic glanced at Donna, then back to the Doctor. "Aliens, on Earth, working for the government… Can't be."

"Oh, tell yourself that, then, if it makes you sleep at night," he said easily, leaning against the console. "It's more common than you might think. Though if you ask me, you ought to be more afraid of each other than of any aliens.

"Look at you!" he continued, speaking to Donna now as well as Lumic. "In the middle of a world-wide war, killing each other by the thousands, and does it solve anything? This is the second one already in only a few thousand years of civilization, how many are you going to have? And all _you lot_ do," he added, nodding to Lumic, "is go about making it even easier. Nuclear weapons, now you've got cyber technology, God knows what next-"

"Stop it, Doctor," Donna interrupted firmly. "Don't you go laying the crimes of humanity on one person alone, just because he's trying to help. And yes," she added as he opened his mouth, "that is what he's doing, and that's what _you're_ doing too, so grow up and stop it."

He stared at her for a moment, obviously angry, then nodded. "Fine. You're right." He went back to the console, pulling out the paper Churchill had handed him. He typed in the coordinates, then called, "Actually, that reminds me: would you mind watching this for a bit? I've got a couple things I want to get."

"Me?" She glanced over at Lumic. He looked somewhat crestfallen, but accepted it, knowing he'd been chastened. "Really not sure I'm the best one for the job…"

"Nonsense, you'll be fine. Just think of it as fancy typing, eh? Come on," he wheedled, "it'll only be a minute."

Donna sighed. "Alright. What?"

"This here," he told her, pointing. "Gravitic anomalizer. Whenever that dial goes above 240, spin the lever until it drops." He patted her on the back reassuringly, then dashed down a side hall. "Oh, and press the button right next to it."

"When?" Donna called at the empty doorway.

"Every time it looks like the helmic regulator is about to go critical!"

"But I don't-" She gave up in disgust - he was already gone, disappeared into one of the innumerable rooms hidden in the TARDIS.

Lumic smiled warily. "Is he always like that?"

"Yeah," Donna muttered, peering bemusedly at the array of dials in front of her. "Bloody space man." Gingerly, she nudged the lever the Doctor had pointed to, then winced as sparks flew. "How are you supposed to spin a lever, anyway?"

Cautiously, Lumic sidled over to look over her shoulder. "Well, it ought to be easy enough, if you just-" He reached for the console, then froze, staring at Donna. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, go ahead," she said, stepping back to give him room. "Better you than me."

"Thank you. This dial?" At Donna's nod, Lumic began to crank the lever, watching the dial with a knowledgeable eye.

Relieved, Donna stepped away, edging towards the door the Doctor had disappeared through. No matter how much she believed in the man's intentions, something about Lumic gave her the creeps. "I'll just see where he's gone."

"Right. Er, shall I…?" Lumic made as if to step away from the console, but stopped as Donna shook her head emphatically.

"Better not. Probly blow up a planet or something." Without looking back, Donna darted out of the main command room in search of the Doctor.

In the end, it proved an easier task than she'd expected: she simply followed the clanking, eventually finding him in some tucked-away work room littered with spare parts. The Doctor was sitting on the floor in the middle of a mountain of metal, glasses perched on the end of his nose, tinkering away.

"Hand me that wrench, would you?" he said, not looking up. Donna grabbed the wrench and walked over to him.

"Here. What're you making?"

"A safety net," he told her, uncharacteristically grim.

Donna looked at the thing in his lap. It was a small, square device with three antennae coming out of the top. "Doesn't look like much."

"Of course not, my gadgets never do." The Doctor grinned up at her. "That's why they're so clever." He paused, glancing around. "Hang on, where's he got to?"

"You mean Lumic?" Donna asked pointedly. "Back there. Somebody's got to watch this thing."

"You left him in the control room? Alone?"

"Oh please. He'll do a better job than I could, I can hardly change a plug," she reminded him.

"But I've shown you at least twice!"

Propping her hands on her hips, Donna stared him down. "And?"

The Doctor glanced down, hiding a smile. "Right. Nothing."

A silence fell for a few moments, the Doctor returning to his little machine, until Donna's curiosity got the better of her. "Alright then, what is it?"

"Sonic modulator," he announced, tossing the wrench aside with a clang and springing to his feet. "Uses sound waves to interrupt radiation emission patterns."

"Which does what?" Donna asked, knowing he was dying to explain.

"Essentially what I just said. The practical application of which," he continued at her glare, "is that I can block the lasers. Shut 'em off, no harm done. Once I get it primed, anyway," he added. "Just need to touch it to the cyber attachment while it's firing, adjust a few settings, you know."

"Sure." The pair grinned at each other, both aware that she didn't know what he meant and couldn't care less. "And here I was worried you would be in here making some massive gun or something."

The Doctor shook his head. "Nah, you know me better than that. Besides," he added, brushing invisible dirt off the modulator, "I didn't _make_ the gun, I borrowed it from Torchwood." He nodded towards an enormous black cylinder lying on a table. "They'd had plenty of practice with Cybermen. Made me take it, ages ago. Didn't ever think I'd need it, not again, but…" He shrugged, and with a wry grin, added "Times change, don't they?"

"You're going to use a _gun_ ," Donna repeated flatly.

"Me? Oh no," he assured her. "Can't stand the things. There's always a better way, don't you think?"

"Then what the hell are you doing with it?" she demanded.

"Finding a better way," he answered simply. "I'm giving it to Lumic."

"You're _what?"_ Donna squawked in disbelief. "Why?"

"Temporarily, of course," the Doctor said, picking up the massive machine and hefting it. "It's absolutely guaranteed to obliterate everything cyber. Only to be used if things really go bad, but I won't be the one using it." Tucking the gun under one arm and the sonic modulator under the other, he headed out of the room. "Let's see if he really is in this to save lives."

* * *

 **A.N: Hey, y'all. Sorry for the delay. It feels like an age, to me, at least. I really haven't been terribly busy, so I haven't got much of an excuse. Ah well. You're still here, so I suppose I'm off the hook. I'm enjoying the Donna/Doctor dynamic, though it is hard to get into sometimes. Hopefully you all are having fun as well.**

 **In case I don't get another chapter posted soon, I'll wish everyone good luck now on starting school, as I imagine a good chunk of you are soon. I do truly hope it goes well for everyone. Thanks for reading!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	6. Chatting Up the Squaddies

Lumic looked up almost guiltily as Donna and the Doctor walked back into the console room, but to his credit, his attention returned immediately to the dials. "It's been fairly stable, sir," he called.

"Really?" The Doctor tossed his hand-made modulator onto one of the fat foam chairs that lined the railing and set the massive gun on its end. Lumic eyed it with apprehensive interest as the Doctor stepped up next to him, typing in a series of commands and peering at the monitors. "Hmm."

"Is that a good hmm?" Donna inquired - the circular patterns of the Gallifreyan language meant nothing to her, and clearly nothing to Lumic, either.

"It's a 'better-than-I-was-expecting-but-still-not-incredible' kind of hmm." He leaned forward, tapping the dial. Lumic immediately stepped out of the way, but Donna could tell that the Doctor was impressed in spite of himself.

Which only confirmed her ever-growing suspicions that the Doctor wasn't actually very good at flying this thing, and not nearly as good as he claimed.

"We should be landing any minute," he announced, happily throwing levers and pressing buttons. "That's for you," he added to Lumic, nodding towards the gun. "Grab it and hold on to something."

Donna watched as Lumic opened his mouth to ask, then shut it again, choosing instead to simply follow instructions. She was beginning to like and respect this young man more and more. At least he knew when to shut up. Then she realized she should probably find something to hang on to as well, and gripped the edge of the console.

"Allons-y!" the Doctor cried, flinging a lever. The TARDIS lurched into action, knocking them all this way and that. Donna and the Doctor shared a grin: this, really, summed up their travels rather nicely. Wild, thrilling, halfway-controlled chaos that left her breathless, with messy hair, an ache in her chest, and a ridiculous smile. Something part of her hated, but something she wouldn't give up for the world.

And then, with a thud and one last jolt, they had landed.

"Right," said the Doctor, brushing himself off with a pleased smirk. "Given that the coordinates good old Winston gave me are accurate, we should be right at the battle site. And if my calculations are right-" He glanced at his watch. "-we should be a few minutes early. Well, either that or half a century too late," he admitted fairly, then grinned. "Shall we find out?"

"Hold on." Lumic spoke up from the corner. At some point during the journey he'd been knocked off his feet and sat on the floor in a crumpled heap, clutching the Torchwood gun. He pointed to it, raising an eyebrow. "Why do I have this?"

"Oh, that?" The Doctor shrugged lightly, scooping up his sonic modulator. "Because we might need it."

Lumic nodded slowly, taking in the implications. He'd clearly already examined the piece and understood its purpose, and its power. "Fine. But why me?"

"Well, I hate guns," said the Time Lord conversationally. "Never like to handle them, myself. And frankly, I wouldn't trust Donna with anything more dangerous than a paper clip." He glanced over at his friend. "No offense."

"None taken," she answered comfortably.

"And to test my loyalties," Lumic added. His tone was matter-of-fact: he knew what the Doctor was doing, and didn't blame him.

Donna shook her head. "Geniuses," she muttered. "They're all the same."

Picking up the gun, struggling some under its weight, Lumic nodded. "We won't need it, you know," he said quietly. "My machines will work."

"I hope you're right." The Doctor walked over to the wooden doors. "Ready?" Without waiting for an answer, he pulled them open and stepped out, Donna and Lumic just behind him.

Contrary to Donna's expectations, they were not standing in the middle of a battle. Instead, it seemed that the upgraded platoon had stopped to brief and prepare: their leader was obviously explaining the plan.

Quietly, looking around, the Doctor turned around. "Okay, this'll only take a moment," he said, voice soft but urgent. "You two can walk around, do whatever, just stay out of the way and don't get into trouble. And don't wander off."

"Alright, Dad," Donna said, raising an eyebrow. "We'll behave." She grabbed the abashed Lumic by the arm and towed him away.

Shaking his head, the Doctor waited for the man in charge to finish speaking, then stepped up and tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, Lieutenant…"

The soldier examined him for a moment before answering. "Cobb," he said. "Lieutenant Cobb. You must be the Doctor." His tone was decidedly neutral, holding no animosity - but no warmth, either.

"Guilty as charged," said the Doctor cheerfully, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Listen, I need to borrow one of your men for a minute."

Cobb raised an eyebrow. "What for?"

"Ah, nothing much," he assured the man. "Just an arm, is all I really need. Calibration, you know." He held up the modulator, wearing his most winning grin.

After looking him over a moment more, the lieutenant nodded. "Bendis," he called. "Over here."

A young man with a chiseled jaw strode over, smiling nervously. "Lieutenant?"

"The Doctor here needs you for a moment." With that, Cobb turned away, mind already back on the upcoming battle.

Bendis smiled again, hands behind his back. Donna noticed him shifting - he clearly still hadn't grown accustomed to the new bulk around his arm, though he hid it well. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Just need to see your, ah…" He hesitated, trying to find a word. "Attachment."

"What, this?" Bendis held up his metal-clad arm, twisting it so the sun glanced off it. "Sure thing. What for?"

"Oh, just a system check, a little calibration, you know," he drawled, pulling the sonic screwdriver out of his coat. "Hold it out, nice and still. Won't take a moment, won't hurt a bit."

"You sound like a doctor," Bendis remarked, holding up his arm.

The Doctor chuckled. "You have no idea."

There was a bit of silence as the Doctor did his programming, scanning first Bendis's device - he was really going to have to come up with a name for it - then the modulator, syncing the wavelengths. Finally, he asked, "How are you feeling?"

Bendis started, blinking in surprise. "Er… about what?"

"Well, big battle coming up, right? First time with these things." The Doctor knocked lightly on one metal band, producing a surprisingly thick sound. "So, how are you feeling."

The man thought a moment before answering. "Surprisingly okay," he admitted. "Fighting's never any fun, sir, but these're good. They'll help." He nodded towards his arm, flexing his fingers and watching the metal twist and roll. "Anything to get this over with and get me home is good in my book."

"I suppose you're right." With a flourish, the Doctor slid the head of his sonic screwdriver back into place. "Okay, almost done. Just fire it once for me. Not at anyone, please."

Mildly baffled, Bendis raised his arm obligingly and aimed at a bare patch of ground near the edge of the makeshift camp. The Doctor lightly touched the modulator to Bendis's laser attachment, smiling at the green light that lit up as Bendis fired. Several meters away, a small, perfectly circular spot of grass was fried brown.

"Neat," the Doctor admitted, stowing the modulator. "Very neat. Thank you, Mr. Bendis, that's all I need." With a cheerful grin that turned into a grimace at the soldier's salute, the Doctor waved him away and trotted back to the TARDIS. "Donna, Lumic, let's go."

Donna glanced up from across the clearing, mildly disappointed at having to break off her conversation, but she bid farewell to her new soldier friend and sauntered over to join him. Lumic was just behind her, still lugging the massive Torchwood gun.

"Chatting up the squaddies?" the Doctor asked innocently. Donna shot him glare.

"If you must know, I was asking about my grandad," she retorted. "World War II, he's bound to be around here somewhere, but…" She shrugged. "Nobody seems to know him. Not around here, anyway."

"Ah, well, it's a big war," said the Doctor lightly, unlocking the TARDIS door. Then he glanced back at the man Donna had been talking to. "Mind you, he's not bad looking."

"There's that too," Donna replied blithely, tossing her hair as she stepped inside the box. The Doctor chuckled, then turned to Lumic. "What about you? Make any new friends?"

The young scientist shook his head. "No, I never did fit in well with those types," he confessed, trying and failing to seem nonchalant. He was breathing hard from hauling the massive metal tube around with him. It was obvious he spent more time in a lab than exercising. "Is there a reason I brought this?" he asked, hefting it.

"Here? No." Lumic's eyebrows went up a fraction in disbelief and irritation. "But our next stop, you'll want it." The Doctor ushered him inside. "Time to go to war."

* * *

 **A.N: Hello! Nice to see you all again! For some reason I have been suffering from some writers block concerning this story in a lot of ways, so thanks to Wholockforeternity777 for having me sit with her while she's writing and thus convincing me to write as well. I've been doing a ridiculous amount of thinking about my next/last Mystery Girl story (if you haven't read the two I have up, please do; they're probably the best things I've ever written), and it's distracting me from this a bit. Ah well.**

 **A plea: as you might have noticed, I am seriously struggling with coming up with a name for these devices Lumic's invented. I do mean seriously. If anyone has any sort of a name at all, doesn't have to be any good, please throw it my way! I'd like a few ridiculous ones to toss in, but I honestly can't come up with anything. Give me a hand, will you?**

 **Thank goodness for readers. I don't know where I'd be if it weren't for all of you.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	7. Battles and Battles

The battle, once they reached it, was far less messy than any of them had anticipated. The Doctor, Donna, and Lumic watched through the open TARDIS doors. Their view was perfectly clear, but any who looked at them would look right on.

"Low level perception field," the Doctor had explained. "Doesn't make you invisible, just unnoticed. Hard to look at. As long as we're quiet, no one should pay us any attention. Used to do it with keys, so you could wander about, but in this case we'll be better off in here."

So there they sat, the TARDIS parked at the edge of the skirmish. The Doctor held his sonic modulator at the ready, constantly checking the readings. Next to him, Lumic braced the Torchwood gun against his knee, holding it ready. Donna stood behind them, watching with wide eyes.

Though Donna had no experience with war beyond her television, what she saw was not what she had had in mind.

Instead of a desperate, bloody melee, the excursion was quick and decisive: the Germans, once spotted, couldn't hold a candle to the new English weaponry. The lasers cut through vegetation and flesh alike, leaving nowhere to hide.

Even despite the obvious ease with which they killed, none of the English soldiers were anything but grim. The Doctor was glad to see they went for incapacitating shots - calves, shoulders, anywhere that would put the enemy fighter out of action - but not fatal ones.

In what felt like moments, the fight was over. Observing from their hidden viewpoint, the trio could see the soldiers' relief and delight: Not a single one of them had even been wounded, so quickly was it ended.

"That was it?" Donna asked, looking around as the men picked themselves up.

"That was it," replied the Doctor with an almost disappointed sigh. He tossed the modulator lightly in the air, then stuck it back in his impossibly large pockets.

"So it's safe to go out, then." She nodded out the door.

"S'pose so," the Doctor answered comfortably. "If you want. We won't be staying long, though."

Lumic settled the massive gun aside, smiling slightly. "See, Doctor? All is well."

"Yep. Congratulations."

Raising an eyebrow, Donna turned on her friend. "What's the matter with you?"

"What d'you mean?" He looked up at her, decidedly innocent. "All safe, everything works, nobody died that didn't have to, I suppose."

"What, then?" she demanded. "Because clearly something's wrong. Look at you, moping about-

"Donna…"

"Is it because you didn't get to use your sonic thing?" she pressed. "Or the fancy gun?"

"Donna-"

"Or do you just really hate being wrong?"

"DONNA!" he shouted, attracting a few curious glances from the soldiers nearby. Lowering his voice, the Doctor told her, "This is one thing I can stand to be wrong about, believe me." He glanced at Lumic, who was politely trying to act as though he couldn't hear. "I'm just not sure I am wrong."

He turned away, heading for the TARDIS console, and in doing so, missed Lumic's faint sigh. "Doctor, what more proof do you need?" the scientist asked quietly. "What will convince you?"

"I don't know," the Doctor confessed, running a hand through his already-tousled hair. "I've just sort of got a feeling about it. This isn't over." With one last darkly dramatic glance at the soldiers outside, he stepped up to the console, preparing the time machine to head back to base.

Exasperated, Lumic turned to Donna. "Miss Noble, can't you reason with him?"

"I doubt it," she said honestly. "And I'm not sure I should, really. He's usually right."

"But, a feeling?" he persisted, leaning against the TARDIS railing. "What about that is scientific?"

"Scientific?" Donna repeated, knowing she shouldn't laugh. "He hasn't got a scientific bone in his body. Pretends to sometimes, but no. He's all intuition and brilliance and…" She shook her head. "Oh, I don't know what, but I trust him. Even if I don't always want to."

Lumic rubbed his eyes. "If you say so."

Just then, the Doctor jogged over. "Ready to go?" he asked. "Got it all primed, we should get back just when they do if we leave now."

"Alright by me," Donna told him. "They can find their own way back?"

"Oh, they'll manage," he said airily. "Types like them, tech like that, they'll be fine." He reached for the wooden doors, ready to shut them and take off, when a scream rent the air.

"What's going on, what's happened?" Donna asked immediately. The Doctor threw the door open, staring outside manically.

"Bendis's been shot," he said distractedly, his mind clearly running at full speed. "In the arm. The one with the laser gauntlet."

"Laser gauntlet?" Lumic repeated derisively.

"I'm under pressure. Come on," he said, running forward, but he stopped almost instantly as another laser bolt flew.

"What shot him?" Lumic wanted to know. "Bullet or laser?"

"Bullet, I think. He's bleeding, anyway."

"Bullet. So not one of ours, then," Lumic said, more than a touch relieved. "One German got away, maybe?"

The Doctor, ignoring him, sprinted into the TARDIS, punched in a few commands, then ran back to the door, fishing around in his pockets for the sonic modulator. "I've raised the force field," he told them, fiddling with the controls on the modulator. "We'll be safe as long as we stay inside."

"What do you mean, what's happening?" Donna demanded, staring out into the ever-growing chaos.

"One of the soldiers has been shot, right between the metal bands." He pointed to his own arm to show them the spot. "That pain, that damage is triggering nerve action like you would not believe, all the way up his arm and spinal cord. And all that activation…"

"Triggers the laser, of course!" Lumic finished, comprehension dawning. "All the activity, he won't be able to stop himself from firing."

"And when the rest find out, when they realize they're in danger…" The Doctor looked out the door, not flinching as bolts of red light flew past, some fizzling out against the force field only inches in front of his face. "A chain reaction."

"So use your modulator thing!" Donna shouted. "Stop them from shooting, that's what it's for, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but-" He pounded the device against his palm in frustration. "It isn't working! The activation, the nervous energy is way different, way bigger: the settings don't line up anymore." Freezing for a moment, the Doctor looked out at the chaos, the background only adding to the wild hair and wide eyes. "I can't stop this."

And 'this' was carnage. Utter carnage. The German sniper who'd begun the mess had already been struck down, but the damage was done.

"They see him as a threat," the Doctor explained, almost breathless. "Maybe not consciously, but their nerves are jumping enough that it doesn't really matter. Until everything's under control, they won't be able to stop firing. And until they stop firing, it won't be under control."

Donna glanced over at Lumic. "Bit of a design flaw."

He nodded, closing his eyes slightly. "The heat of battle, the madness…" He shrugged. "The others told me about it, but I underestimated. Theoretical research, you know, it's largely trial and error…" Lumic looked from the Doctor to Donna and back again, silently begging them to understand. "I'm doing my best." Shamed, he glanced out at the battle. "Firsthand is… different."

"You have no idea," the Doctor told him. His voice was completely empty, a sharp and marked contrast - this man wore his every emotion on his sleeve. Not for the first time, Donna wondered what he'd seen that made his eyes so hard.

"I can't stop this," he repeated, "but I don't have to watch it, either." He reached for the doors. "Time to go."

"One minute, Doctor," Lumic said, smiling grimly. "We've still got one more option. Ultimately, were this to spread or word to get out of the technology we now have to get out, we'll be in a much worse situation. They're killing each other now. If they can't be stopped?" He paused, letting them imagine. "This has to end. Now." He pointed to the Torchwood gun propped innocently on its end. "And you're the one who showed me the way."

* * *

 **A.N: Hi guys. Sorry for the delay, it's just been a real struggle writing recently. Hopefully as things climax it'll go quicker. We are approaching the end, I think. Nice to do a shorter story for a change.**

 **I definitely had something to say a second ago. What was it?**

 **Ah yes. I start school again in two days, so routines will change (duh). No idea how all of that will effect my writing time, but if past experience is a decent indicator, it probably won't be that different. But we'll see. I'm just glad to know I've got you guys with me. Thank you all so much!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	8. Rules

"No way," Donna said forcefully, sensing his intentions. "You can't."

"What do you think, Doctor?" Lumic asked, eyeing the Time Lord carefully. "You brought the thing along; didn't you plan to use it?"

The Doctor stood still, facing the console, arms hanging at his sides.

"Those are people, Doctor!" she cried, pointing out the still-open TARDIS door. "Real, human people with lives, and families, they're not Cybermen! You can't just-"

"Let them destroy each other and God knows what else? No. We can't. Better to end it quickly and mercifully." Lumic tried to catch her eye, hoping to get her back on his side. "This has to be."

"No, it bloody well doesn't! You don't get to come in here and say what's got to happen and what hasn't!" Donna knew she was shouting now, knew that the soldiers outside might hear her at any moment. "No one gets to do that, not even him. What've you got to say about this?" she demanded of her friend, suddenly furious with his enduring silence.

"There are rules," he said quietly, carefully. "There's only so much I can do."

"Rubbish!" Lumic jumped at the sound. "Utter rubbish, Doctor, don't you pull that with me." Striding forward, Donna grabbed the Doctor by the sleeve of his coat and yanked him around to face her.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be," Lumic begged from behind her. Something in her softened - he clearly wasn't happy with his plan - but only slightly.

"I'll do what I please," she snapped. "Doctor, since when have you cared about rules? Dodging about, getting in trouble, that's what you live for, that's what you thrive on, and don't deny it," she added warningly.

He shrugged, a hint of a smile showing up for the first time. "I wasn't about to."

"Then do it this time!" She dragged him over to the door, forcing him to stare outside. "For these people, bend the rules, you know you can. There's always a way, you can find it, you're the Doctor!"

"Donna, I can't," he said flatly. "I just can't." He reached forward with definite finality, preparing to shut the doors for good.

"You're as bad as Churchill," she yelled desperately. "'Compassion has no place in war,' well, where is your compassion now?"

The Doctor hesitated, hand outstretched. She'd hit him, Donna could tell. She just wasn't sure if it'd be enough.

Closing his eyes, the Doctor took a deep breath. Lumic was right, he knew, though he hated to admit it. It would be kinder to end this disaster quickly, and past experience with Cybermen had shown him that total containment and elimination was the best if not only way.

Donna had a point, too. Many of them, in fact, most of them good ones. But today… Today he didn't have the time or energy to fight another war.

He grabbed the edge of the door and swung it forwards, and couldn't help glancing outside as he did so. Suddenly, the Doctor found his hand would swing no further.

"Doctor?" Donna asked softly. She followed his gaze out the door and sucked in a breath at what she saw.

Bendis, the young soldier who'd helped the Doctor before, was lying on the ground. The bullet hole in his arm had been joined by several laser burns on his legs and torso. At the very least, he would never walk normally again, and unless he got back to base and a medic soon, he wouldn't be surviving at all. It was a cruel miracle that he was still conscious.

To the end of his days, the Doctor would never be sure what it was, if it was anything at all, that made the soldier look right at the spot the TARDIS was parked. Unlike most, his eyes didn't slide by. Whether it was the pain, the shock, or simply a fluke, his eyes locked with the Doctor's in a desperate, pain-ridden cry for help.

 _The one word I never refuse. "_ Cybermen don't ask for help. Cybermen don't feel pain, don't feel at all. Cybermen…" It was only when his voice gave out that he realized he'd been speaking aloud.

Between one heartbeat and the next, the Doctor came alive. Snatching up the sonic modulator in one hand and his screwdriver in the other, he grinned at Donna. The expression was so familiar, so _him,_ she couldn't help but smile back in relief, despite the circumstances.

"Back in a tick," he told them. "Don't go anywhere."

"What about this?" Lumic asked, guessing his intentions and grabbing for the Torchwood gun. "It's madness out there, you'll never make it unless you clear the way. I'll cover you. Take out a few-"

"I don't need it." The Doctor cut him off, raising his hand. "At least one person here believes I'm better than that." He shot Donna a glance that was equal parts gratitude and pride. "And if she thinks I am, then I must be, eh?"

"You'll be killed," said Lumic seriously. "Messily, if not instantly. You know that, right?"

"Wouldn't be the first time. Give me some credit." With one last grin, he dashed out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

Immediately, Lumic rounded on Donna. "How can you let him do that?" he demanded. "Running into danger, he's clearly much too valuable to risk himself like that-"

"Because that's what he does," she interrupted. "He can help, and even if he can't, he can try."

"But these people, what makes them any more important than the millions of others dying in this damn war?" The scientist looked close to tears, and Donna wondered for a moment who he had lost.

"Nothing," she said simply. "They're just there, and they need him, and he can help. There's not a single person on this planet worth more than anyone else, not in his eyes." She smiled. "He just forgets that sometimes."

Hesitating, Lumic glanced at the door, plainly dying to know what was happening on the other side of it.

"He'll be back," Donna said confidently, reassuring herself as much as Lumic. "He's thought of something. Something brilliant. You watch."

* * *

 **A.N: It is late, but here you go. I know this is short, but there will be a good deal next chapter. I'm really getting into the flow of this now, finally, so I suspect I shall progress much more quickly. And I'm actually getting excited, and I hope you are too.**

 **Haven't much to say with this other than don't be too harsh on poor Lumic - he's trying his best. And the same goes for me. I love you all.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	9. Do My Best

The Doctor raced out the TARDIS door, his formidable senses on high alert. Lasers were flying everywhere, and, Time Lord or not, he knew that even the slightest touch meant agony.

Fortunately, miraculously, Bendis had managed to drag himself to the sidelines of the skirmish, out of the way of most of the mess.

Suddenly the Doctor tripped, stumbling over something that might have been a leg. In truth, it saved his life: a bolt passed right over his head, frying the tips of his hair. Has he still been standing, he'd be regenerating.

"Well." He reached up and ruefully felt his newly-singed hair. "Could be worse." Then he was on his feet again, running and dodging for his life.

Within seconds that felt like years, the Doctor was at his side. "Hey," he said softly, trying to calm the dying man. "Bendis, was it? The Doctor. Here to help."

"Doctor. Good." The young man's breathing was ragged. "Might need one." He glanced around briefly at the chaos. "It's my fault, isn't it?"

"Nonsense," the Doctor told him, fumbling the sonic modulator in his haste to get it aligned. "This wasn't anybody's fault."

For a moment, his thoughts flashed back to another young man, standing in a laboratory proudly displaying an invention that would change mankind. And then to another man, years ago and worlds away, with his hand on a button, ready to destroy billions of lives to save even more…

"How do you know?"

To this, the Doctor had no reply. Fortunately, he could busy himself with his equipment.

Bendis's attachment was still firing, albeit much less frequently than before. If it was still an accurate reflection of his nerve activation…

"Am I dying?" The question was simple, and the young man sounded like he would accept whatever answer that came.

"Not today," he said with a distracted smile. _False hope on the gallows. I'm so much older than I used to be._ "Listen, Bendis- What's your first name?"

It took a moment for the soldier to muster enough energy to reply. "Raymond."

"Alright, good. Raymond, I need you to fire your gun for me." He glanced down at the modulator, then poked it with the sonic screwdriver, adjusting the readings.

"I… I don't think I can." Bendis shook his head, only a fraction. "Not enough energy."

"Just once will do," the Doctor insisted. "I have to recalibrate, just like we did before. Remember? Then I can end all of this."

"End it? You're… you're sure?" With a glance that took in the slaughter raging around him, his fallen comrades, Bendis nodded. "If that's what it takes."

"Good lad." The Doctor grinned, patting him gently on the shoulder. "Fire it off, then, quick as you can, and we'll get this whole mess over with."

"Get it over with." Smiling, he nodded again. "Do my best, Doctor." Bendis closed his eyes.

Moments passed. As the seconds ticked by, the Time Lord began to fear that he was too late, that he'd have to find someone else. But no: for the new calibrations to take effect, the software had to be identical. Similar though the technology might be, the human component ensured that he needed _this_ man. It had to be him.

Glancing down, the Doctor saw that Bendis had slipped into unconsciousness. In growing desperation, he reached forward with his free hand and gently rested it on the side of the dying soldier's head. He closed his eyes, reaching out with his mind in the only means of communication Bendis had left.

 _Raymond. Raymond, can you hear me?_

The man's mind was reeling, fighting frantically to stay alive, to fight back the blackness encroaching on every side. His primal instincts rose to the forefront, focusing all his remaining energy on the important things: keep breathing, keep the heart beating. Stay alive.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, though - all that was left of his higher processing - came a dim understanding and acknowledgement.

 _Good. I need you to focus. Concentrate on your arm. Send your energy there._

In his own mind, the Doctor could feel his regeneration energy rising, fighting against the waves of death pressing against his consciousness. He wouldn't be able to maintain the link long.

 _Send the energy there. Just a little more. Raymond, focus. You can do it._ The Doctor continued to repeat the message until he sensed he was becoming more of a distraction than a help, then broke the connection with relief.

"Come on, come on!" he whispered, glancing from the modulator screen to Bendis's face. "You can do it."

And finally, at long last, the modulator registered the beginnings of laser activity. "Yes! Perfect!" The laser fired, adding another brown streak to the scorched grass. The Doctor snatched up the sonic screwdriver, scanning the modulator to lock in the new settings. "Got it."

He stood up, spinning in a full circle as he manipulated the modulator, then running back to the TARDIS, pushing the door open and slinging it shut behind him without breaking his stride.

Donna and Lumic flew back to avoid being hit as the Doctor charged through. "It's all programmed," he shouted, colliding with the console and punching buttons even as he pulled himself to his feet. "Just got to get it broadcast. The TARDIS can throw the new signals out over a wide enough range, it's just got to hit every Cyberarm."

"Cyberarm?" Lumic's nose wrinkled at the Doctor's newest name for his device.

"I don't like it," Donna commented. "Too obvious."

"Oh, come on. Cyberarm, sounds like firearm, get it? But it's an arm, that's cyber… Cyber tech, on an arm… Teensy bit clever? No? Alright then." The Doctor turned up a dial, then plugged the sonic modulator into the console. "And broadcasting in three, two, one!"

He pulled a lever, and a shower of sparks lit up the room. Lumic flinched, but the Doctor only laughed, grinning at Donna. They could hear a pinging noise, too, not unlike a ship's radar.

A few seconds later, the sound stopped. The Doctor, beaming, turned to Lumic. "I think you'll find that if you open those doors, your devices will no longer be functioning."

Donna and Lumic traded glances, his skeptical, hers hopeful. Slowly he went to the doors and pushed them open, revealing a rapidly quieting battlefield. True to the Doctor's word, there were no laser bolts.

"Changed the activation frequency, then inhibited it," the Doctor explained. "Blocked it with the sound waves, hence the 'sonic' bit." He glanced at Donna. "Little bit clever?"

"A bit." She stepped outside, discouraged at how many bodies lay strewn around the field. Her gut clenched - it wasn't an easy sight, but she felt she owed these men at least that much. "What about them?"

Hands in his pockets, the Doctor surveyed the battlefield. "Look for survivors," he said finally. "Bring them into the TARDIS. We need to get the wounded back to the base. And let Mr. Churchill know what's happened."

Lumic nodded, gritting his teeth and getting to the grim task. Donna prepared to follow him, but the Doctor held up his hand.

"Donna, I want you to stay in the TARDIS," he told her quietly. "Keep an eye on her. I've never done a broadcast like that before, and frankly, I've no idea what the effects are going to be."

"But the survivors-"

"Someone's got to look after them once we get them inside," the Doctor reminded her. "I understand the TARDIS can be a bit overwhelming at first. Get them in, get them comfortable for the trip."

Donna considered him a moment, then nodded and stepped back inside, shutting the door behind her. Although she'd never admit it to the Doctor, she was grateful not to have to sort through the bodies. Knowing so many had died was bad enough. Knowing they had died for nothing… She had a feeling, though, that the Doctor knew exactly how she felt. Probably because he felt the same way.

Outside the TARDIS, the two men began their grim work. Lumic appeared to be working the perimeter, but the Doctor made straight for Bendis. He knelt down beside the young man.

"Well, we did it," he told him softly. "Everything's sorted. Well, as much as it can be, anyway," he admitted. "Couldn't have done it without you, you know. I wonder if you had any idea how big of a part you played?" Settling back into the dirt, he added contemplatively, "I wonder if any of us ever do."

"Doctor?" Lumic stood behind him. "There were only a few… Well, they're in the ship now." He paused, looking at the fallen soldier. "He's dead, isn't he?"

The Doctor stood up, his movements uncharacteristically abrupt. "Yes," he said shortly. "He is. He gave the last of his life to save theirs."

Lumic nodded. "I'll speak to Mr. Churchill personally to see that he is properly honored." A pause, then, "Are you ready?"

With one last look, the Doctor followed Lumic back into the TARDIS, closing the door behind him. As darkness fell over the field, the blue box dematerialized, leaving the fallen in peace.

* * *

 **A.N: Well. There's a reason I don't write many deaths, folks. But it had to be done. Rest in peace.**

 **Anyway, to my somewhat shock, we are getting quite close to the end of this. Probably about two more chapters, I'd guess. And then, goodness knows what else I'll get up to. I'm planning in full swing for my third Mystery Girl story (if you haven't read them, I highly recommend them) but I'm not sure I'll get the outline done in time, so we'll see. Stay tuned, friends!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	10. Sorry, Sir

They landed next to the army hospital on the edge of the camp. With the help of those of the soldiers who were able, Donna, the Doctor, and Lumic unloaded the wounded and brought them inside, leaving them in the care of the somewhat bemused medical staff.

Once all were taken care of, the trio walked to Churchill's command center to explain what had happened. The Prime Minister, understandably, was not pleased.

"Tell me again how many men died." His hands were clasped behind his back as he stood behind his desk, facing away from them. "Doctor?"

"Twelve," the Doctor admitted. "And another six injured. But if-"

"Eighteen men taken out of action." He nodded. None of his audience mistook it for approval. "And how many because of the enemy?"

Lumic looked at the ground. "Just one, sir. Wounded."

"I see. Eighteen men, out because of each other. Is that right, Mr. Lumic?" Now he turned around, his piercing stare fixing Lumic to the floor.

"No, sir."

"No?" The Prime Minister's voice was quiet, not condemning, not absolving.

"No, sir. They're out because of me." The young scientist nodded, his conviction growing. "I overestimated my machines, or perhaps underestimated them. I neglected to test then sufficiently. I…" He slowed, looking to Donna and the Doctor for help.

"Treated human lives like experiments," the Doctor suggested. Lumic blushed, but accepted it.

"I… yes." He coughed slightly. "I was arrogant and foolish. I know it won't bring them back, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Donna elbowed the Doctor subtly in the ribs. He glanced over at her, wincing, and she shot him a meaningful look. _See?_

"Hmm." Churchill stood for a moment, contemplating them. "You understand, of course, that there must be consequences. Mistakes such as these cannot be seen to be let pass, regardless of where the fault truly lies."

"I know, sir."

Churchill nodded again, then, to everyone's surprise, turned to Donna. "And what is your part in this, Miss Noble?"

She blinked, not quite sure how to respond. "Er, helping out, I suppose?"

"Moral support," the Doctor added, grinning at her. "Invaluable."

"Yes," mused Churchill, "but whose morals, I wonder?"

"None but my own, thanks," she retorted. The Doctor suppressed a snort, quickly smoothing his face into an appropriately sober expression.

"I see. And a citizen of England, I presume?"

"Yeah. Not yet, though," Donna pointed out. "Too early. You've just got my grandad now." She stopped there, but the rest was implied: _You haven't got any power over me._

"Of course. Well, a word of advice, then, for something tells me you won't look kindly on anything else." The Prime Minister glanced at Lumic, then at the Doctor, before settling his gaze back on Donna. "Be careful in choosing your companions in future."

She raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to say something sharp, but the Doctor stepped hard on her foot. She sniffed. "Well, we'll see if I come visit you again any time soon," she muttered, but quietly. Churchill had already moved on.

"Doctor. You're an employee of mine, aren't you?"

"Aw, technicalities," the Doctor said airily, trying for a grin. "Might have been, once. Time's confusing."

Churchill grunted. "So you say. I'd fire you if I was sure I wouldn't need to call you up again." He clasped his hands behind his back, relaxing a bit. "As it is, I'll have a word with Torchwood. Yes, I know about Torchwood," he added at the Doctor's surprise.

"What's Torchwood?" Lumic whispered to Donna. She only shook her head.

"I may ask them to increase their watch against you, Doctor," Churchill continued, ignoring the brief interruption. "Perhaps Queen Victoria had it right: you are more of a threat to this nation than a boon."

"Is that a fancy way of saying 'don't call us, we'll call you?' Sorry, sorry," he said at Donna's look, "just can't help myself."

"You shouldn't say that," Lumic burst out suddenly. "Not about him." It took them all a second to realize he was speaking to Churchill.

Churchill raised one eyebrow. "No? And why not?"

"He helped," the young man insisted, shifting uncomfortably at the sudden attention. "He saved them, he's the reason there's any left at all. And he tried to tell you it wasn't safe, right at the beginning…" He shook his head. "Don't blame him for problems that are mine."

"Hmmph." Churchill cast an appraising glance at the Doctor. "If nothing else, I wish I had half your capacity for inspiring loyalty, Doctor."

"You do, sir," the Doctor assured him.

"Hmmph," Churchill said again, before turning, finally, to Lumic. "John."

Lumic swallowed hard. "Sir."

"You understand."

"Yes, sir," he said softly. "Probably better than you think."

His expression unreadable, Churchill looked him over. "Yes, well, maybe you do, at that. John, you've made some serious mistakes here, and we can't let that pass. If-"

"Just tell me, sir," Lumic interrupted him. "What's it going to be?"

Churchill stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "Dishonorable discharge, to start. If you're smart, you'll leave Great Britain. Once the mothers and families of those boys find out what's happened…" He shrugged. "I'll delay word of this spreading for as long as I can, but after that… Well, I can't promise anything."

"I understand, sir. If I may…" He looked at the Prime Minister for permission to speak. "I have relatives - a great uncle Jaffrey in America. I could move there, start over."

"I'd take him," the Doctor offered. "Bring him across, set him up." Donna glanced at him in surprise, but he only shrugged. "It's the least I can do."

"An excellent plan." Considerably more relaxed, Churchill cut a cigar and lit it. "I'll bury this disaster as best I can. We'll cremate the fallen and destroy whatever's left. Honestly," he admitted, "this is a disaster for everyone involved. The sooner it blows over, the better for all of us."

"What about the other soldiers?" Donna asked, thinking back to the men they'd carried inside. "They've still got the… the things, haven't they?"

"Er, actually, I've got a plan for that," the Doctor said cheerily, stepping in with a grin. "Well, bit past a plan, I suppose, but anyway: as soon we got all the survivors into the TARDIS, I scanned each man's device. The nervous connection between human and machine was a thin one-"

"Had to be, so it wouldn't get overloaded," Lumic put in.

"Yes, exactly. So it was easy enough to break. Oh, they might have some mild nerve damage in their hands, you can chalk that up to burns or general trauma, whatever you like, but within the next few hours, you should be able to just cut them right off." He rocked back on his heels, pleased with himself.

Donna scowled. "You said you were making sure they were stable enough for time travel," she accused him. He shrugged.

"Well, that too."

"So it's all settled, then," Churchill said, breaking up the banter. "In that case, consider yourselves dismissed. Unless, of course, you've decided to lend me your TARDIS?" he added to the Doctor, raising one eyebrow. "It could do wonders, you know. Make up for a portion of the damage you've done to this nation. That sort of technology under British command-"

"Sorry, Winston, not today," the Doctor told him, though good-naturedly. "I've got other things to do."

"Don't you always," he grumbled. He clapped the Doctor on the back, then shook Donna's hand. "Well, a pleasure. Mostly a pleasure. John, best of luck in America. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a war to win." He made to turn away, but Lumic grabbed his arm.

"Mr. Churchill, sir, one of the soldiers that died - Raymond Bendis…" He nearly faltered at Churchill's stare. "He died a hero, sir. I… well, I made a promise that he'd get honored as such."

With a sigh, Churchill nodded. "Too many young men die heros," he told them heavily. "I'll see it done." Without another goodbye, he headed back into his command room.

There was a relieved silence for a moment, then the Doctor turned to Lumic. "So. America. Not a bad place, on the whole. If you can give me an address-"

"Actually, Doctor," Lumic said with a small smile, "I think it'd be better if I go on my own. I've got to set my affairs in order, you know, and I'd hate to just turn up unannounced. I can't just pick up and go."

The Doctor stared at him for a moment, bemused, then smiled. "Oh, yes. Human lives. Messy, complicated things. I understand."

"Liar," Donna whispered, but he only grinned. Giving up, she turned to Lumic. "What will you do?"

"In America?" Lumic shrugged. "Haven't really had much time to think about it. Something scientific, I suppose. That's really all I know." He smiled. "Perhaps I could teach. But no more inventions, I think." He glanced at the Doctor, and an understanding passed between them. "One mistake was enough."

With a nod, the Doctor said, "You've grown up."

"Yes, I think I have." With a funny little smile, Lumic repeated, "I think I have." Indeed, the man standing before them now was a very different one than the anxiously ambitious scientist they'd met earlier that day.

After a moment of thought, he held out his hand for the Doctor to shake. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "You saved their lives, and God knows how many more."

"Job description," said the Doctor, staying light. Donna could tell, though, that he was moved. "I do what I can."

Lumic accepted this, then moved along to Donna. "And thank you," he told her, "for seeing a person and not a series of mistakes. You see people, Miss Noble, in a way that neither he nor I do. Without you, I do not believe any of those soldiers would have survived, and I shudder to think what might have become of me."

"It's on you now," she told him, not really sure what else to say.

"And I will have had a wonderful example." Lumic smiled at them both, then snapped off a sharp salute. Before either of them could react, he had stepped out of the room, leaving Donna and the Doctor alone.

* * *

 **A.N: Hello, all. It's been two weeks, which for me is horrible. I could tell you that college is hard, which it sort of is, or that I've been busy, which I have, but mostly the trouble is that I've been working on my outline for my next story and that is getting me very excited. I should never do two things at once. More details are in my bio if you're curious!**

 **Anyway, I anticipate one more chapter of this to wrap it up, and then we move along. Thank you all for putting up with my absences, and I do hope you'll journey with me into further adventures!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	11. Home

"Do you think he'll really do it?" Donna asked as they walked through the camp. "Go to America, start over?"

"You know, I really do," admitted the Doctor, hands clasped behind his back. "I mean, think about it. In your time, nobody knows the name John Lumic. He's not famous, he never invented anything. That sort of technology would be revolutionary. But you still don't have it."

"So he never invented it."

"Apparently not. Which is probably not a bad thing."

"I guess not." Donna sighed. "Still. It almost worked."

"It almost did," he agreed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Funny how many things almost happen."

She nodded, pondering that. "You really thought he was evil," she said at last, glancing curiously at him for a reaction.

The Doctor was silent for so long, Donna thought he wasn't going to respond. "You'd think by now I'd know that things are never that black and white. But yes." He sighed. "I did."

"Why?" Finally, Donna dared ask the question she'd been dying to ask since they'd arrived. "You said something about a parallel universe?"

"Yeah. It was- well, it was a long time ago. Lumic was dying, and he thought that if he could find a way to preserve his brain outside his body, he could live forever. Everyone could."

"And it went wrong?"

"No, actually," he admitted. "They worked perfectly. Emotionless, ice-cold reasoning machines. Really, they worked too well."

"What do you mean?" They were nearly halfway across the camp now, and Donna knew that as soon as he got into the TARDIS again, he'd take off and leave this place behind completely. She had to hear the story now.

"Lumic started using them as a private army," the Doctor explained. "The government wouldn't let him manufacture them, so he fought back. So many people died, transformed…"

"And he was one of them," Donna said, certain.

"Yep. But the Cybermen didn't." His face was grim. "Not too much longer, they broke through from that universe into this one. Canary Wharf, I must have told you about that. Torchwood fell apart completely, I've no idea how many died, and Rose was-" He swallowed hard. "-trapped in the other universe. Pete's world, we called it. Because of him, I lost the woman I- well, anyway, that's why I wasn't jumping for joy seeing him again."

There was a pause for a moment as they walked a little further, then the Doctor sighed. "Well, it's over now."

"Yes," Donna said with relief. The adventures she had with the Doctor were, if she were honest with herself, rarely enjoyable, and sometimes - like back in the TARDIS watching the battle rage - she wasn't sure why she traveled with him at all. After their very first trip together, she'd admitted that the Time Lord terrified her, and in many ways, he still did. The way he'd looked at Lumic…

But then there were the moments like these, when everything had settled, when the Doctor relaxed. When he let her see just a bit of what made him the way he was. When they could joke and laugh and just be mates. "All finished. But I tell you what, though: there is one thing."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, sensing the levity in her tone. "Oh? And what's that?"

She grinned. "You never did come up with a name for those blasted devices."

"Aw, no." He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Nothing ever felt right, you know? Too pretentious or something."

"Might as well call them Laser Gauntlets and have done with it."

He smirked. "Arms of Doom."

"Firefingers," Donna suggested, grinning at his snort.

"Droids of Destruction… No, Firefingers wins, definitely."

"History would be so proud," she said, finally letting herself laugh. The Doctor joined in, and the sound was cathartic, washing away the horrors of the past few hours.

Their laughter continued until the reached the TARDIS. The Doctor unlocked the door and pushed it open for Donna. About to follow her, he stopped, suddenly distracted.

"Doctor?" Donna poked her head back out. "Coming?"

"Yeah, just a minute." He waved her back inside, then, hands shoved deep in his pockets, wandered around the side of the TARDIS to stand over the young man sitting in the dirt with his back against the blue wood, nose once again deep in an astronomy book. "Freddie, wasn't it?"

The soldier jumped to his feet. "Doctor! I, er… Well, some of the boys were saying a box had appeared out of nowhere and I thought, that's got to be him."

The Doctor crossed his arms, listening with bemused interest. Freddie, however, seemed to take this as irritation, and sped up his speech even further.

"I told myself, that's not Earth, just appearing like that, that's got to be alien or something, and I've never seen a box like that, and I didn't think you were police, so I just thought I'd… I'd wait and… and maybe ask you?" He trailed off, clearly already regretting what he'd said. "Of course, it's your business, and I don't mean to pry. I've always wondered about aliens, you see - if you are an alien, that is, I mean, if you're not, then-"

"Oh, I'm definitely alien," the Doctor said with a grin. "Right down to the core. That's my ship," he added, nodding towards the TARDIS. "Time and space."

"Time and space," Freddie echoed, staring at the squat box with renewed awe. "Wow."

On a whim, the Doctor asked, "Want a trip?"

"A…" The young soldier's eyes widened so much the Doctor began to worry they might fall out. "A trip? In there?"

"Sure. See those stars you're so fond of. Maybe the future?" He kept his manner off-hand, but inwardly, the Doctor was delighted by Freddie's reaction.

"The stars." For a moment, he was lost, imagining the possibilities, his mind millions of miles away. And then, reluctantly, he dragged himself back to the present. "I can't, Doctor, I'm sorry."

Honestly, he'd expected that answer. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I really am sorry, but…" He gestured around at the camp. "I have a duty here, and I won't abandon it, whatever _they_ seem to think."

"No, I understand," the Doctor said, nodding, "I do. It's a life, traveling out there."

"But I've met you now," Freddie told him earnestly, "I've _met_ an _alien_."

The Doctor grinned. "Maybe you'll get to meet one again someday." He headed for the door of the TARDIS, then leaned back. "Freddie's not your real name, is it?"

"No," he admitted. "I picked it up when I joined the Army. It's actually Wilfred."

"Wilfred?" His eyebrows flew up, not sure he'd heard correctly.

"Yes, sir." He saluted. "Wilfred Mott, at your service."

Slowly, the Doctor nodded. "Wilfred Mott. Well, sir, it's been an honor." He grinned. "You'll like this next bit."

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him. Donna was leaning on the console with a mug of tea. She glanced at him curiously as he came in. "Find a friend?"

"Oh, just somebody," he said airily, striding up to the console and flipping some switches. "Curious about the TARDIS, you know how it goes."

"Right." She sensed he was probably holding something back, but decided it wouldn't be worth the time to figure it out. "Well, where next? Somewhere exotic? Another planet, maybe. Somewhere sunny."

"Actually," he said, "I was thinking maybe back home. See your family, maybe catch up with your grandad?"

She stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. That's probably a good idea, actually. Take some time off."

"Exactly. Relax a bit."

"And what will you do?" Donna asked, sipping her tea.

"Run off on another adventure, I suppose," he said, shrugging lightly. "Keep busy."

"Don't be ridiculous, Grandad would love to see you, you know that," she told him. "Just for an evening." Eyeing him up, she added, "You need to relax just as much as I do."

The Doctor hesitated, then relented. "Oh, alright. One evening." He grinned and pulled a lever, launching them back through time.

* * *

 **A.N: Guys it's done! I made it. I'm pleased. Yay! I do hope you enjoyed it. I'm extremely excited to move on, and I hope you'll come along with me. If you enjoyed my writing, feel free to follow my profile to stay updated on what's happening! Thank you all again!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


End file.
